Truth Burns Deep
by WhatBecomesOfYou
Summary: Post-finale, Marshall and Jason work through their issues, but the truth is still there, right below the surface. Written for sacred-20 on LiveJournal.
1. Cools the Sting

**Title**: Cools the Sting

**Fandom**: United States of Tara

**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason

**Prompt**: #2 - Repent

**Rating**: PG

**Notes**: Written for sacred_20 on LiveJournal. Title comes from a quote by William Arthur Ward. "Forgiveness is a funny thing. It warms the heart and cools the sting." Set shortly after the season one finale, possibly spoilers for all aired episodes.

**Summary**: Jason has something to say to Marshall, but Marshall isn't sure if he wants to hear it or not.

* * *

Inwardly, Marshall knew that Jason _had_ every right to go on dates with girls to Starbucks. It's a free country, the United States, and people can go with whomever they so choose to discuss meaningless…or _meaningful_…topics over more-than-likely steaming hot cups of flavored coffee. He couldn't wallow. He just…_couldn't_. And that was when he made the promise to himself that he would never let whatever it was that he felt for Jason control his life.

Things are easier said than done, as they say, however. He had very nearly put it all behind him, as much as he could, considering they still attended school together – granted, Marshall had gone out of his way to avoid speaking to Jason, even in class - when he received a phone call late one night. He wrinkled his nose and turned over in bed, shoving a pillow over his head to block out the incessant ringing. It'd go over to voicemail and he could deal with it in the morning, if it was important enough.

The next morning, he listened to the voicemail. "Hey, uhh, it's Jason," Jason's voice said, slurring his words slightly. "Look, man, we need to talk. Call me."

Marshall let out a sigh and as the recorded female voice gave him his options at the end of the message, he punched in the code to delete it. He'd have to do better than that.

* * *

Monday at school, Marshall saw Jason striding toward him purposefully, and turned to walk the other way. If they were going to have the talk that Jason so evidently desired, it would be on his terms,_ not_ Jason's. "Hey, Marshall, can we talk?" Jason came up behind him and asked.

Marshall spun around quickly, almost _too_ quickly, and nearly toppled forward. "Can we _not_ constantly have heart-to-hearts by the water fountains?" he snapped, gesturing wildly to the water fountains glistening in the fluorescent lights of the school hallway.

Jason furrowed his brow. "I don't see anything _wrong_ with the water fountains…"

Rolling his eyes slightly, Marshall sighed. "Meet me at the Starbucks on Maple after school. We can talk then."

"So a crowded coffee house is more suitable to having our, as you put it, '_heart-to-heart_', than a crowded school hallway?"

"Yes." From somewhere above them, a chime sounded, and Marshall looked expectantly down the hallway. "I…better get to class."

"So should I. See you at Starbucks."

Marshall nearly bolted off, leaving a confused Jason behind in his wake.

* * *

"Bi-curious church monkey…bi-curious church monkey…he's nothing but a _bi-curious church monkey_," Kate's words to Marshall reverberated in his head as he walked to Starbucks after school was dismissed. He wasn't exactly looking forward to what Jason was going to say. He figured that it would be something like, "I think you're awesome, but we really shouldn't be hanging out together." Biting his lip, he pushed on the door and entered Starbucks. He scanned the room quickly. Even in the crowded din that was a Starbucks fifteen minutes after school was out, Jason stood out, though he had his head down and was looking at something intently on the table.

Marshall walked over and tapped him on the shoulder, feeling a bit of a shock as he did so. Static electricity: it could happen to anyone. Jason tilted his head up, and Marshall could see that he had pulled Jason out from thinking about something. "Hey," Marshall said, pulling a chair out and sitting across from him. "So…you wanted to talk?"

Jason nodded, laying his hands down on the table. "Look, man, I've had some time to think. And maybe I didn't…do things like I should have. I should have talked to you, figured out what the _hell_ was going on." As he looked over and saw that Marshall was nodding along, he sucked in a deep breath and continued. "I know I didn't do it right. And I want to have a chance to make it up to you. That is, if you'll let me."

Inwardly, Marshall was jumping up and down, but on the exterior, he remained perfectly emotionless, not wanting for any of his feelings to betray his facial expression. "Why should I let you?" he asked, biting gently on his lower lip.

"Because I think you want to."

_Damn_, he was more perceptive than Marshall had previously given him credit for. He nervously reached a hand up and ran it errantly through his hair, waging a mental war with himself. To forgive Jason, or not to forgive Jason? To plagiarize Shakespeare, that _was_ the question. Finally, after a few tense moments of no words being spoken, he exhaled a breath he didn't _realize_ he had been holding, and licked his lips tentatively, seeking a few precious drops of moisture. "Okay, yes, I forgive you," he said, in a rush, faster than he may have liked.

"Thanks, man, you won't regret it," Jason said, clasping a hand on Marshall's shoulder. "I have to run, got plans with my parents, but call me later, okay?"

Marshall nodded, but before he could say anything, Jason was already out the door. He sighed. He _hoped _he wouldn't regret it, though it felt strangely good to have that behind him. Tomorrow would be a new day.


	2. Life Like a Telenovela

**Title**: Life as a Telenovela  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #5 - Silence  
**Rating**: PG  
**Notes**: Written for sacred_20 on LiveJournal. I decided to turn this into a multi-chapter story, so all of the prompts will tie together to form one overarching Marshall/Jason story.  
**Summary**: Later that afternoon, Kate finds out about Marshall's talk with Jason.

* * *

Kate walked through the door and threw her backpack on the couch, huffing softly, frustrated with how her day had progressed. If it was possible, she imagined that there was a little gray rain cloud following her over her head, pelting angry raindrops onto her head. It would be about right. She flipped on the television, and mindlessly channel surfed, finally landing on a Spanish telenovela. As the two characters on screen yelled at each other in rapid-fire Spanish, she sunk back into the fabric of the couch and watched, paying attention for the sole reason of having something to do. At least they could unleash their emotions on each other, and by the end of the hour, they'd be in each other's arms. Or, possibly, dead, but she didn't want to think of death as a diversionary tactic.

She heard the front door open, and summarily, she heard the front door close, followed footsteps creeping along the sideboard. "Marshall? Is that you?"

* * *

Marshall exhaled. "Hey, Kate." He entered the room and sat on the couch next to her, pulling out a bag of M&Ms from his backpack and methodically picking around the green ones. "How was your day?"

"You _never_ ask me how my day is," she turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "What's going on?"

He shrugged. "Want an M&M?" he asked, attempting to divert the topic, holding out the bag to her.

"No, Marshall. I want to know what pod person _possessed_ you today," she replied, pushing it back at him. "This isn't normal you."

Looking down at the carpet, Marshall silently began counting carpet fibers. Kate was perceptive. Almost scarily so, everything considered, he mused. Out loud, he simply said, "Things happened today."

"Talk to me, Marshall," she said. "What happened? Was it Jason again? I thought you gave up on him, and you were doing _so _much better for it."

Closing his eyes, he nodded slightly. "You could say it was Jason."

"Would I be right if I said it was?"

"Yes." The word dangled precariously in the air.

"What did he do?" Kate picked up the remote control and muted the television. "If he hurt you…"

"No. No, nothing like that," he said, taking his time to say each word. "We're…"

"Oh, Moosh, you _didn't_." A look of slight horror spread across her face, at the realization she was coming to.

"We're going to try to make things work."

She snatched away the bag of M&Ms from his grasp and stuck it on the end table. "How can you be blithely sitting here, eating all the M&Ms except the green ones, and tell me that? He's going to hurt you, Marshall. This isn't going to end well."

"I'm _not_ expecting a romantic comedy, Kate, where the guy ends up with the guy in the end."

"Yeah, because down that path lays heartbreak, angst and tragedy," she said, a tinge of sarcasm entering her voice, which she regretted as soon as she said it. The look on his face echoed the sentiment, as the room enveloped in silence, each of them swearing that they could hear the grass growing outside.

After a good amount of time had elapsed, he broke the silence. "I thought you'd be more supportive than this," he whispered through clenched teeth. "Why can't you be?"

"I've explained myself before," she said, running one hand through the back of her hair. "He's going to break your heart when he decides to be with a girl, and I don't want to see your heart broken."

"Kate," he said, standing up from the couch and looking at her. "_Stop_ being the overprotective older sister." He spun on one heel and walked briskly from the room, leaving her sitting on the couch, mouth open in shock.

Picking back up the remote control, she un-muted the television, and watched as the characters, previously fighting, were talking in what she perceived to be amicable tones. She sighed. Even though she had missed what led from them fighting to them being friendly, even if she could have understood it, she knew that things would patch up between her and Marshall eventually. It'd just take bending on both sides. Or as they would say on screen: _compromiso_.


	3. Thin Line Between Courage and Stupidity

**Title**: Thin Line Between Courage and Stupidity  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #7 - Revelation  
**Rating**: PG  
**Notes**: Written for sacred_20 on LiveJournal. Finally found my footing with the story, hopefully updates will be more constant now.  
**Summary**: The two talk on the phone and clear the air.

* * *

Jason wasn't sure when things had changed, when _he_ had changed, when he had glanced over one day and saw someone that he found himself _attracted_ to that he never would have imagined. It wasn't something he had ever planned, or thought about to be honest. If someone had asked him last year, or even a year prior, he'd give them the whole spiel about a lovely wife, two and a half kids named after towns they'd only ever go to if they won the lottery, like Sydney and London, a white picket fence, an incessantly yapping dog and church on Sundays. The "perfect" All-American family.

Except, then he met Marshall. And his world had turned upside down and inside out since then.

He sat on the edge of his bed, feet dangling over the edge, gently scraping the carpet fibers with his heel. It had been quite hard to escape from the family dinner without arousing suspicion. Even his mother's meatloaf and mashed potatoes had tasted a bit off. Not anything against her cooking, of course, as he would constantly reassure her if she ever asked him why he had bolted from the table after a few bites.

He glanced over at the clock on his desk. He had _told_ Marshall to call later. In retrospect, he mused, he should have been the one to make the call. Not foist it onto Marshall.

Damn alcohol. If he hadn't taken Marshall up on the offer to share a bottle, he never would have been courageous, no, _stupid_ enough to kiss him, and falling deeper and deeper into the position they were in today. The line between courage and stupidity was a thin one, prone to disappearing at inopportune times, and that day in Marshall's room had _definitely_ been one or the other. Possibly both.

All that had been clear, a blissfully transparent revelation in the cloudy haze of alcohol and body heat, was that all he could comprehend himself doing at that point in time was kissing Marshall Gregson. It had surprised him. And it most certainly had surprised Marshall, taken him off guard…

From somewhere behind him, covered by part of the blanket, he heard his phone ringing, muffled by the position it was currently in. Groping blindly behind him, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Marshall. _Of course_ it was Marshall. His ears were probably ringing. He flipped it open and composed himself. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice even and low.

"Hey." It was a simple word, an echo of his own greeting, and Jason was attempting to parse the meaning behind it, the words left unspoken behind the tone.

"What's up?"

"My sister, Kate, thinks I'm making a mistake."

"How are you making a mistake?" He feared he knew the answer, but better to hear it from the source than from jumping to assumptions. That wouldn't do either of them any good.

"By trusting you." The words were a stab to the heart. Neither spoke for a few minutes. Definitely an awkward silence, one that would be decidedly more cringe-worthy if this conversation was happening in person.

"Marshall, I don't know what –"

"She thinks you're going to find some girl that will steal your heart away and break mine in the process. It's already happened once, you know."

"Marshall –"

"Yes?"

"I can't make you any promises."

"Promises are _bullshit_ anyway."

"But I _do_ want to make things up to you. You deserve that much." He massaged the back of his neck gently. This was _definitely_ a stressful conversation. Maybe it would have been better in person.

"How do you plan to do that?"

The question caught him off guard, though it was probably the one he should have been expecting. "I don't know, Marshall. I guess we'll find out together, won't we?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Have any plans Friday?"

"No."

"Then we can hang out then, and figure all this out."

"Sounds good." Jason could have sworn that if it was possible to smile over the phone, Marshall was beaming.

Muffled whispers came from the other end of the line. "Yeah, yeah, I'll get off the phone." Marshall's voice became louder again. "Sorry about that. Kate says our parents want to talk to us about something, so I should probably get going. See you at school tomorrow."

"Okay. See ya, man." And with that, the phone call was disconnected. He leaned back against his pillow and let out an exhale of breath. Now to think about Friday…


	4. Better than the Worst Case Scenario

**Title**: Better than the Worst Case Scenario  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #18 - Redemption  
**Rating**: PG  
**Notes**: Written for sacred_20 on LiveJournal.  
**Summary**: Redemption can be found in the strangest of places.

* * *

To Marshall and Jason, the next couple of days, before Friday, seemed to alternately pass in a blur and as though the hours were mired in molasses. They'd catch each other's glances in the hallway, and duck away to disguise the reactions that came forward most naturally. Smiling. One time, Petunia had caught Marshall smiling, and he had to pass it off as a delayed reaction to one of her jokes. He wasn't sure how things were going to go with Jason, though it seemed like it might go okay, and he didn't want to say anything before he knew more.

Finally, Friday afternoon rolled around, and the school bell trilled from the ceiling. The students were free for the weekend. Marshall walked out of his last period class and settled down on a nearby bench, breathing in and out, nervously awaiting what might be coming ahead. "Hey man," he heard a male voice say from somewhere nearby.

Marshall glanced up. "Hey Jason," he said, his mood lightening considerably. At least Jason hadn't forgotten, though, when he was running through the worst-case scenarios the night before, Jason forgetting was on the _mild_ end of things.

"Want to take a walk?" Jason asked, extending a hand. "I hear fresh air does wonders for the soul."

"As does chicken soup, if the books are to be believed," Marshall said with a laugh. "Yeah, a walk sounds nice though." He stuck his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and stood up. "Ready?"

"I've been ready since Wednesday," Jason said softly, just loud enough for Marshall to hear him. "But, yes, I am."

* * *

As they walked along the path to the park, Marshall swore he could see his breath. The temperature had dropped considerably during the school day, and he was saying a silent prayer of thanks that he had the sense to bring a jacket that day.

"You sure you want to talk in public?" Marshall asked, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and looking over at Jason. "It's cold, and people are around." Waving his hands around as to make his point more apparent, he motioned to various families.

Jason shrugged. "I don't feel comfortable going home right now, and, uh, after the last time I went over to your house…"

"I don't need to be reminded of _that_," Marshall fiercely muttered under his breath. It hadn't been one of his most proud achievements of his lifetime.

"It wasn't my intent, and I hope you realize that."

"I know. Things happened. Things I didn't like, and never will. I'm over it, though."

"That says a lot about you, Marshall," Jason said, brushing his arm against Marshall's. "Thanks."

"Just don't do it again. Especially not with my _mother_."

"Believe me. I won't."

They could hear children playing in the distance, laughing and giggling, but it was faint. Nothing too distinct, just a blur of sound. Jason looked at Marshall, who was gnawing idly at his bottom lip. "Hey," Jason said, gently grabbing Marshall's upper arm. "Let's go somewhere else."

"Like where?"

"I have an idea. Just follow me."

* * *

"You have a treehouse?" Marshall asked a short time later, looking down at the ground from the splintered wooden floors of Jason's old treehouse.

Jason nodded and spread a blanket under him, one that had been pilfered from the couch inside just a few moments before. "My father and I built it together when I was younger. Don't really come up here much anymore."

"It's nice," Marshall said, scooting over to the edge of the blanket.

"You can come closer if you like, the blanket doesn't bite," Jason said, leaning over closer to Marshall. "Really, it doesn't."

Marshall smiled and scooted onto the blanket. "Wasn't sure how close you were comfortable with." It was partially the truth. He was testing the boundaries, finding how far Jason was willing to bend before he hit his breaking point. If he was willing to share the blanket, which wasn't that large, then that was a starting point. Where it ended, only time and experience would tell.

"Marshall?"

"Yeah?" Marshall turned to face Jason, and realized just how close Jason was to him at that moment in time. It wasn't the first time they had been that close, but it was the first time that Marshall truly felt like Jason understood what he was doing. As their heads leaned closer to each other, and Jason's wind-chapped lips glided over Marshall's, Marshall felt as though everything that had gone on between them in recent months was _completely_ worth it. And not even a tiny part of him felt as though the kiss was anything short of Jason proving himself.

-_to be continued_-


	5. Slow and Steady

**Title**: Slow and Steady  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #11 - Heaven  
**Rating**: PG  
**Notes**: Written for sacred_20 on LiveJournal. A short little interlude to carry things over between what's happened and what will be happening. The long delays between chapters should be a thing of the past, especially now that I've seen the entire season again – which was the main reason for the delays in the past.

* * *

Probably no more than a minute had passed in reality, but to Marshall, it almost felt as though it had been an eternity. As they broke apart, he caught his breath and glanced over at Jason. "That was…_unexpected_," he said, testing the waters slightly. He was fairly uncertain as to how to react. Hormones would say to move this much faster than was in his comfort zone, and if it wasn't in _his_ comfort zone then there was no way that it would be in Jason's. Slow and steady. Seemed like a good speed to take things at, at least for now.

"Yeah," Jason replied, his gaze directed at somewhere in Marshall's vicinity, but Marshall didn't quite dare to think that Jason could be looking at him. "I figured it would be." A small smile slipped across Jason's face, a fleeting spectacle before his mouth settled back into the neutral state it had been before. "You mad?"

"No…no! Not at all." _I'm just surprised_, Marshall finished mentally. _I thought __**I'd**__ have to be the one to initiate any lip contact between us today._

Jason let out a chuckle and nonchalantly draped his hand over Marshall's knee, his fingers splayed across the denim. "Your move."

Marshall inhaled deeply, and hesitated only long enough to close what gap remained between them, moving so their legs touched. As he moved his head in to Jason's, snaking his hand around Jason's neck to pull him in closer, his mouth finding Jason's once again, he knew that the speed would set itself. The future was still yet to come, but in that moment, he was perfectly content to be right where he was. No alters, no Kate, no parents. Just the two of them. It was some kind of heaven.


	6. Best Laid Plans

**Title**: Best Laid Plans  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #19 – Writer's Choice [forbidden fruit]  
**Rating**: PG

* * *

Two months had passed since that blissful, idyllic afternoon in Jason's tree house.

Two months of passing glances in the hallway at school; two months of spending time together whenever possible after school, but before dinner. Was it just "very kissable just-friends-and-nothing-more" or was it more along the lines of "very kissable _boyfriends_"?

It had been two months - and yet, they were the only ones the wiser. Kate _thought_ she knew, but if she did, and Marshall hadn't asked her how much she knew, she wasn't holding it over his head. Yet, anyway. Even still, she was being remarkably restrained on the matter, which was odd for her. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm, or perhaps she had other issues to worry about. Either way, it was a small miracle and he was grateful for it.

The largest obstacle, and the one that caused more than a few gnawed bottom lips and darting eyes, was the one that was a specter hanging over their entire relationship.

Try as they might to think of a way around it, Jason's father was _not_ a very tolerant man. And if there was one Bible verse he had nailed into his son's head growing up, it was the one about men lying with other men as they would with a woman, and the eternal condemnation that would come with such an action.

Well, the closest to sharing a bed with a woman Marshall had ever done was when he was two years old and had to share a bed with Kate in a cheap motel room in Chicago. And he didn't think that being kicked by his older sister and having a doll bump up against his arm all night for three straight nights _really_ counted in that area.

Marshall, one time, had pressed Jason for details on how much his father knew about him. Jason looked down at the grass and intently studied the intricate details of one particular blade. "He knows about the first kiss," he finally said, bowing his head. "And that it wasn't going to be repeated because of what happened - you know."

Marshall nodded, knowing how the sentence would end. "How did he react?"

"Is fire and brimstone an under exaggeration?" He looked back up at Marshall, the blade of grass firmly tucked between his fingers, an indescribable look on his face. To Marshall, it appeared as though it was a mix between confusion and sadness.

"He _really _said that?"

"No. Not like that. The basic idea was there though."

"What are we going to _do_?"

"We're _not_ going to tell my parents, deal?"

"Deal." They sealed it with a kiss - a quick one, though, seeing as how his mother was lurking around working on laundry.

It was a simple enough deal to keep. Although Jason's father would cordially greet Marshall whenever he saw him - probably a remnant from his volunteering with that Hell House the Halloween before - the icy aura was enough to put Marshall off from making conversation. Whenever the two of them wanted to be alone, one of them would make up a school-related excuse - the current favorite seemed to be that Marshall was tutoring Jason in English, although he didn't need _that_ much help - and they'd make a hasty retreat upstairs. As long as they weren't loud and were careful and perceptive, things worked out smoothly.

The best laid plans, however…

* * *

The late afternoon sun filtered in through Jason's blinds, casting shadows across his bed. Textbooks lay long forgotten on the floor, cast aside in favor of a few precious stolen moments together before his mother arrived home from the grocery store. Absentmindedly, Jason glided his hands up under Marshall's shirt as they faced each other, lying on his bed.

The last thing Marshall remembered was the feeling of Jason's fingers on his back and how _nice_ it was that the weather was beginning to warm up, before the moment would be frozen in time, only to be remembered in future recollections of his version of "what was your most embarrassing moment _ever_?"

If he hadn't been so caught up in the moment, or if Jason had caught the telltale creak of the floorboard outside his room, maybe it could have been averted.

"What in God's name are you two _doing_?" Jason's father yelled. He stood menacingly in the doorway, his arms folded tightly over his chest. "Out, Marshall. Go home. This is a family matter now."

Marshall looked to Jason for some form of guidance, but only received a tight-lipped smile and pleading eyes in reply. As he picked up his books and jammed them haphazardly into his backpack, he felt his breathing constrict. The last time this had happened, it ended with a shed on fire and a bottle of Xanax within arm's reach at all times. History's a bitch, repeating itself like that.

He walked out of the room, not daring to try to talk to Jason with an angry father standing right there, following his every movement. A part of him hoped that Jason would call or let him know what was going on.

"Judy, come up to Jason's room," his father called down. "We need to have a _very_ important family conference _now_."

-_to be continued_-


	7. Fly Away

**Title**: Fly Away  
**Fandom**: United States of Tara  
**Pairing**: Marshall/Jason  
**Prompt**: #16 - Exodus  
**Rating**: PG  
**Notes**: Not taking season two into consideration now, although parts of it _may_ show up later.

* * *

Hitch Maurio was a man who had, in all of his years of serving God, never anticipated that his greatest trial of faith would not come from some catastrophic world event, but his teenage son, Jason. Jason, with that _Gregson_ boy – he didn't even want to _look_ at his son right now. He was already beginning to think of ways to spin it to the congregants, if things got out of control.

Jason, on the other hand, had _never_ seen his father this angry before. Not during one of his endless weekly sermons, not when he had come home with an F on the geometry test he had forgotten about, and not when Jason had, accidentally, broken the windshield on the family's brand-new car with a stray football. Never. He cast his glance downward, pointedly avoiding looking anywhere near his father. He couldn't take the shame.

They heard his mother's footsteps as she climbed the stairs. She seemed to be taking an eternity climbing, each step slowly easing under her weight.

As soon as she entered the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe for balance, and said, in a particularly emphatic voice, "What's wrong? Is everything okay?" Jason had a gut feeling that this wasn't going to end well for him.

He was right.

* * *

"You have _disgraced_ this _family_," his father continued, pacing around the room, "you lied to me, you lied to yourself, and you lied to _God_. What do you have to _say_ for yourself?"

Jason looked up at the ceiling and opened his mouth to form some sort of reply. "I –"

"You know what? I don't care. I don't care what you have to say for yourself."

"Hitch –" his mother interjected.

"Judy, stay _out _of it."

"You asked me –"

"Because you need to realize what your son is – a _homosexual deviant_."

Jason rose to his feet, from the sitting position he had been in for the entire conversation, and turned to face his father. "I'm _leaving_," Jason said, with an even tone, grabbing his backpack from the floor and making strides across the carpet toward the door.

"If you walk out that door, you can_ forget_ about being our son."

"Can't we talk this _out_?" his mother asked, a pleading look in her eyes, "Sit down; talk it out like a _family_."

"The time for talking has passed," his father replied, "if Jason is unwilling to repent and change his ways, then I can't see him as my son."

Without another word, Jason walked out the door, his head held high. He had made his choice. The clock on the mantel said 6:13. Only half an hour had passed – half an hour that had irreparably changed his life.

He could almost swear that he heard his father's voice yelling down at him, "And don't bother coming back!"

The air felt clean and crisp, almost like a rebirth of sorts. He was free, away from his father. He could run in the park, wear holes in his sneakers by walking the sidewalks of town – or he could find Marshall; let him know what had happened.

The walk to the Gregson house was almost as though he was walking on air.

* * *

A bleary-eyed Marshall answered the door. "Jason? I thought –"

"Not here. Can we go to your room?"

"Um," Marshall glanced backwards, almost as if he was making sure no one else was around, "sure, I _guess_, let's go."

Once in his room, and the door closed behind them, Jason began recapping the events that had transpired after Marshall's departure. "He told me that if I left, I shouldn't come back."

"And you left."

"Yeah."

"I can't have you moving in," Marshall said, before quickly adding, "it'd stress my mother out, and she's, um, not _herself_ when she's stressed."

"No, that's okay," Jason said, blowing out a breath and sighing, "can I stay over tonight, at least?"

"Sure, whatever, I'm sure it'll be fine with my parents."

Jason curled up on the floor, safely ensconced in Kate's neon-pink sleeping bag that Marshall had retrieved from the attic that evening. "Thanks, Marshall," Jason said, turning over and closing his eyes, attempting to forget the events of the past few hours.

"You're welcome," Marshall murmured, staring at the ceiling. Fate had a funny way of playing its hand, it really did.

And across town, a father paced across his son's bedroom floor, crucifix in hand, sprinkling vials of holy water and reciting prayers, "by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls."

It was all he knew how to do.

_-to be continued_-


End file.
